EO Drabbles, 2011
by VoicesInTheWind
Summary: Drabbles written for prompts from the E/O Drabble Challenge. Year-long project. Will include H/C, angst, humor, drama, family and friendship, and probably fluff, among others. I will bounce around the genres, but nothing in here will exceed my "T" rating.
1. Introductory Drabble

**Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke. I own only a laptop and my imagination.**

* * *

Hello!

You may've picked up from the title of this piece that these drabbles are for the E/O Drabble Challenge.

Well… yes and no, actually.

Yes, I will be using the E/O prompts. They're good prompts.

But, mainly, one of my New Year's resolutions was to fulfill the E/O Challenge every single week - for an entire year!

Thus, this.

Please enjoy.

Also - I'd really like it if you'd drop me a review every now and then. A year is a long time. It's gonna get real, and I'm sure by a couple months in I'll really need the support.

-**VoicesInTheWind**


	2. Cool Drabbles

**Cool**

**01/02/11**

* * *

She's sitting there, the prettiest thing in the bar and well aware of it. She sips her light beer. She scans the crowd for a suitable companion.

From the table he's sharing with his brother, Dean watches. He's interested, for sure.

Better to play it cool, though.

The girl sits up straighter as her fierce green eyes lock on a new target.

She's seen him.

He sees her.

Dean smiles - the slow, seductive kind that always leaves the ladies begging for more.

She smiles back.

Dean stands, moving confidently.

Maybe Small-Hick-Town-on-the-Ass-End-of-Nowhere, USA isn't such a bad place to be tonight.

* * *

**Cool - Part Two**

**01/03/11**

**Silly me didn't see it was a dialogue-drabble prompt this week. Whoops.**

* * *

"I swear, I thought she was human!"

"Yeah. We all know what part of you was doing the thinking there."

"Piss off, Sam."

"Fine. You can stitch your own damn shoulder."

"Maybe I will!"

"Fine."

"Fine!"

"…"

"…"

"Give me your arm."

"Fine."

"…"

"Ow."

"Hold still."

"Ow. _Shit_!"

"It's not that bad."

"Feels bad."

"Relax, Dean. Think about something else."

"K… Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Sorry."

"It's cool."

"Cool."

"…There."

"…Thanks, Sam."

"Sure."

"…"

"Dean?"

"Uh?"

"Next time, use the silver _before_ you get in bed with some bar skank."

"Bite me, Sam."

"You're impossible."

"You love me anyway."

"…"

"Sam?"


	3. Flank Drabble

**Flank**

**01/09/11**

* * *

"S'not funny, Sam!" Dean insisted.

"Yeah, it is!" Sam disagreed, nearly falling off his mount with laughter.

"It threw me! I could've been killed!"

"You're just pissed because you suck at riding."

Dean ignored that, muttering about dumb-assed brothers and why-did-three-hundred-year-old-gravesites-always-have-to-be-in-the-middle-of-frickin'-nowhere. He remounted gingerly.

As Dean settled himself, Sam grinned, an idea forming.

"What?" Dean asked suspiciously, noting the smirk.

Instead of replying, Sam leaned down, reached across and smacked Dean's roan on its flank. With a surprised cry, the horse lurched forward.

"_Shit_! Sam!" Dean bellowed, clinging desperately to his reins.

Sam laughed, urging his own horse on. "Giddy-up!"


	4. Side Drabble

**Side**

**01/16/11**

**Happy birthday, LaedieDuske! Hope it's a good one :)**

* * *

"Ugh," Dean moaned, clutching his stomach.

Sam's head shot up. "You gonna puke again?" he asked.

"No."

Sam didn't quite believe that. He placed a hand on Dean's forehead, checking his fever. It was down, but Dean was still too tense. He needed rest.

"Scoot over."

"Huh?" Dean shot Sam a bleary-eyed look.

Sam sat on the bed, moving Dean over gently. Dean stiffened slightly, and Sam waited to see if he'd up-chuck. He didn't.

Gingerly, Sam lay down by Dean's side. Dean blinked, confused. Then - finally - he relaxed.

At the sound of Dean's deep, sleepy breathing, Sam relaxed, too.


	5. Pull Drabble

**Pull**

**01/23/11**

**For Beaming Sunshine; it isn't exactly what you wanted, but I hope you like it anyway. Happy birthday :)**

* * *

When Sam is sick, he makes noises like a kitten.

Dean has lots of experience with Sam's various moods. He knows Sick Sam, Angry Sam, and Happy Sam …Grieving Sam …Shell-Shocked-and-Lost Sam, when he's so heartbroken Dean wants to cry.

Dean knows Sam. He knows exactly who Sam is, how he thinks.

He knows what Sam needs.

"Dean…"

Sam doesn't say anything else, doesn't have to.

"I'm here, Sam."

Dean pulls Sam into his arms, cuddling his feverish brother. Sam relaxes in the embrace.

"Thanks, Dean."

"No problem, Sammy."

Dean knows Sam. And he will always take care of him.


	6. Grate Drabble

**Grate**

**01/30/11**

**Tuppence wanted happy Dean moments with John; this qualifies, I think. (Sorry, Enkidu07, I didn't write any sore throat!Dean)**

**Also, this be a Wee!chesters fic. They're about nine and five, I guess.**

* * *

Dean fiddled with the drooping banner, young face creased in concentration. After a moment, he leaned back to admire his work. _Perfect_.

"DeanDeanDean!"

"What, Sam?"

"Dad's home!"

"What? Now?" Dean spun atop his chair, nearly falling. "_Crap_! Quick, hide!"

Sam shrieked gleefully and ran in hyper circles. Dean dragged him behind the couch.

The door opened with a grating sound. "Boys?"

_One…_ _Two… Three…_

"_Surprise!"_

John looked nonplussed. "What's this?"

Sam threw himself into John's arms, grinning hugely. "Happy birthday, Daddy!"

As John hugged his youngest, he smiled. His eyes met Dean's.

"Thanks, boys."

Dean smiled back. "No problem, Dad."


	7. Square Drabble

**Square**

**02/06/11**

* * *

The pieces didn't fit.

"Damn it!"

"Just let it go, Dean."

"Shut up, Sam! Just shut up!"

Sam rolled his eyes, ducking back behind his book.

Dean ignored him, glaring instead at the device in his hands, twisting it viciously.

"What the hell-?"

The wooden block slipped. It flew up... then down.

Sam yelped.

"_Dean_! It isn't going to happen. Let - it - go!"

Dean scowled. He put the toy down. "A few more minutes and I would have had it."

Sam didn't reply.

The box mocked Dean silently from the tabletop. He cursed it.

Stupid round hole...

...stupid square peg.


	8. Drift Drabble

**Drift**

**02/13/11**

* * *

It was breathtaking.

Caught under the rosy gaze of streetlights, gentle snow drifted slowly. Bobby stared heavenward, letting wet flakes land on his unprotected face and neck. It wasn't very cold out.

Gleeful screams subtracted nothing from the scene's tranquility. Bobby grinned at the antics of the neighborhood children, mitten-clad and determined to have a proper snowball fight before the dark descended completely.

Karen's warm hand slid into his from behind. Her voice was a murmur of hot-chocolate-and-sitting-in-front-of-the-fire.

"It's beautiful."

Bobby smiled, kissing her fingers.

"It sure is."

The season's first snow... with her hand in his, it was perfect.


	9. Stall Drabble

**Stall (Nightmare)**

**02/20/11**

* * *

Panicked shouts in close quarters.

_"Sam!"_

The smoke is thick - he can't breathe. Coughing …

More screams. They're going down.

_"What the hell happened?"_

No-one answers. No-one can hear him.

Going down.

_"SAM!"_

Sam isn't answering. Sam isn't here. Thank God Sam isn't here, because it's all over any second now.

The engine stalled at 30,000 feet. The plane is going down.

_"Dean!"_

Going down, going down -

_"Dean, wake up."_

- going ... Wait. Sam's here.

Dean wakes up. Sam's there - always - concerned, confused.

"Dude, are you OK?" he asks.

Dean nods. "Yeah, fine."

He is. It's just a nightmare.

Just a nightmare.


	10. Guise Drabble

**Guise (Atlantic City, Sam!)**

**02/27/11**

**I used the prompt word four times... do I get bonus points?**

* * *

"…Best. Vacation. _Ever_."

Sam sighed. "We aren't _on_ vacation."

Dean stuffed bubble-gum-pink cotton candy into his mouth. "Lighten up, Sam." he said, offering the spun-sugar like an olive branch. "Have some fluffy goodness."

Sam stared. Dean stared back.

"_Maulings_, Dean."

"_Atlantic City_, Sam."

"_Corpses_."

"_Casinos_."

"_Victims_."

"_Casinos_."

"…_Dean_."

"…_Fine_," Dean growled.

Sam smirked, triumphant. "OK - this thing is killing people under the guise of a lifeguard."

"…_People_ under the guise, or _it's_ under the guise?"

"…_It's_ under the guise."

Dean grinned. "Then we have time. The beaches closed at sunset."

"Dean!" Sam protested. Dean waved him off.

"Atlantic City, Sam!"


	11. Tip Drabble

**Tip (The Blame Game)**

**03/06/11**

**Happy birthday, PwnedByPineapple! You wanted boys being boys - hope this delivers!**

**It is *cringe* a double-drabble. And the challenge word is slightly hidden. I feel like such a cheater.**

* * *

"Try again."

"I'm not trying again."

"Why not?"

"I tried four times."

"Just try again."

"Sam –"

"What is it, Dean?"

Sam and Dean whipped around, startled by the angel's voice.

"What is so urgent?" Castiel asked again. He looked annoyed.

"Oh. Cas. What took you so long?" Dean flashed a smile Castiel didn't return.

"Why am I here?"

Sam fidgeted, glancing at Dean. "We, uh, need your help."

"Yes. I gathered as much."

"We, well," Dean cleared his throat.

"_What_?"

"WesortofbrokeBobby'sselkielure."

"...What?"

"We-sort-of-broke-Bobby's-selkie-lure."

"What is a _selkielure_?"

"It, um, well, you'll find out."

"_How_ will I find –"

Bobby's truck pulling up outside threw the boys into action. Dean shoved something small and wet into Castiel's hands, darting after Sam out the backdoor.

"Thanks, Cas, you're the best!"

"Wait - what is going on?"

Bobby entered moments later. He spotted the broken bauble immediately.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?"

From the backyard, Sam and Dean watched on tip-toe.

"Poor Cas. I feel bad."

"Pssh," Dean scoffed. "Payback, Sammy. He knew I wanted the last Oreo."

Inside, the air flickered, and Castiel vanished. Then, Bobby looked up - _right at them_. He looked pissed.

"Dean," Sam said, urgently.

"Oh shit. _Run_."

They ran.


	12. Skunk Drabble

**Skunk**

**03/13/11**

* * *

"Do we have enough?"

Sam held up the now-empty crate for Dean's inspection. "We'll see."

Dean grunted and headed for the bathroom, stripping as he went. The smell of tomatoes mingled with that of … something else.

"This is disgusting."

"Yeah."

"No, I mean, this is _really_ disgusting. We do disgusting things every day, but _this_ - this is disgusting!"

Sam sighed. "Well, you were the one who just charged in…"

"I was supposed to know the demonic, blood-sucking chinchilla was gonna skunk me?"

"In our line of work?"

Dean paused, eyeing the tubful of thick red liquid. "Yeah," he sighed. "Disgusting."


	13. Cozy Drabble

**Cozy (Hopeless)**

**03/20/11**

**So, as I'm sure everyone noticed, FF is being weird about posts and updates in the Supernatural fandom ... super annoying ... but I'm posting now ... finally.**

**Dialogue drabble, Fun-with-Mad Libs drabble, either Teen!chesters or set in season one.**

* * *

"Color."

"Green."

"Superlative."

"What's a superlative?"

"'Noting the highest degree of comparison of adjectives and adverbs, as _smallest_, _best_ _–'"_

"Ok, Ok, Brain-Boy. Best, then."

"Alright … adjective."

"Smokin'."

"…Really, Dean?"

"What's wrong with smokin'?"

"Nothing, except that you're staring at the waitress's butt."

"She's got a nice butt."

"Focus, Dean."

"Right. What's next?"

"Animal, plural."

"Banshees."

"No."

"What now?"

"Banshees aren't animals."

"Close enough."

"_Animal_."

"Ugh, fine … dog."

"_Dogs_ - it's plural. Adjective."

"Cozy…"

"Noun."

"…With that waitress."

"Dean!"

Sam sighed as Dean stood, ignoring him. After a moment, though, he smiled. Watching Dean flirt, one word came to mind.

Adjective: Hopeless.


	14. Rub Drabble

**Rub**

**03/27/11**

**Yes, I know this isn't great, but pranks really aren't my thing****. Sorry, Dizzo :(**

* * *

_The shot rang through the silence. Everything stopped … everything but the werewolf. It didn't even flinch as he fired again, again. The silver wasn't working…_

…_because it wasn't silver. The bullets had been replaced with paintball pellets that wouldn't stop a puppy, much less a lycanthrope._

_It was charging, enraged, closer and closer and –_

Dean shot upright in bed, breathing hard. Across the room, Sam did the same, woken by his brother's distressed shout.

"Dean? You OK?" Sam asked, concerned.

Dean rubbed at tired eyes. "Sam…"

"Yeah?"

"…I think we may need to scale back the pranks for a bit."


	15. Fix Drabble

**Fix**

**04/03/11**

**Please pardon my French. And for people reading with _those_ goggles on... this is pure drunkenness and brotherly affection - that's _all_.**

* * *

He was speaking French.

"Regardez le chat!"

Speaking French, and laughing at seemingly random intervals. Then again, Sam didn't speak French; maybe whatever Dean was talking about was friggin' hilarious.

"Un chat dans une perruque!"

Or maybe Dean was under a spell _and_ drunk, because Sam was fairly certain he was talking about a cat . . . there was no cat.

"…Sam?" Dean slurred.

"Yeah?"

"Je t'aime"

"OK, Dean."

"Je t'aime, Sam."

"OK, Dean. Just sit; I'll get you fixed up."

Sam rummaged for the counter-charm, grinning. He didn't speak French, but he knew what "Je t'aime" meant.

"Love you, too, Dean."


	16. Long Drabble

**Long (It's All Relative)**

**04/10/11**

* * *

Crappy dinners and highway signs - too much time in the car; endless nights and exhausting days, never in one town for long.

They keep moving; there's always another monster to kill. Always more salt to spread across doorways, more guns to load, water to bless, civilians to lie to, graves to rob.

There's always _something_.

"Ours is not a normal childhood, Sammy-boy," Dean says.

Sam knows it isn't.

After a hunt gone sour, there are stitches to sew, cuts to disinfect, tears to dry. Promises made, promises broken. Bones broken.

Familiar sights, sounds, smells - comforting things.

Maybe normal is relative.


	17. Floor Drabble

**Floor (So Much Fun, Being a Gun)**

**04/17/11**

**Rock on, Wolfpack Pride, for the awesome bonus challenge! (Writing from the POV of an inanimate object.)**

* * *

How many shots have I fired?

Smoke curls around my barrel as the corpse falls to the floor ... again.

They're using silver bullets this time. I've seen it all - salt rounds, lead, silver, even rubber bullets once when the larger one wanted to "prank" his brother.

Now _that_ was funny.

This is not funny. The was-dead-then-alive-again thing had friends. The brothers are yelling at each other.

"Find cover, Sam!"

"Dean, _duck_!"

This is a messy one. Bits and pieces flying ... smoke too thick ... very messy.

_Click._

He's emptied the cartridge - gonna have to reload. How many shots have I fired?


	18. Fall Drabbles

**Fall 1/2 (Irritation) Co-written with my brother, Jon.**

**04/26/11**

**My watch seems to be running two days slow. But better late than never, eh? And look, it's a double-drabble!**

**Bonus Challenge: Poetic Justice**

* * *

"Fall back!" Castiel ordered, seeking higher ground. Light flashed as another of his brethren fell. He turned to shout, when a sudden voice sounded.

"_Hey, Cas . . ."_

Dean's voice, lifted in prayer. Relaxed, happy – not urgent. Castiel ignored it.

The demons were almost upon them, soon –

"_Caaaasssss!"_

– Soon they could retreat no further –

"_You there?"_

– They would be –

"_Our angel who's in Heaven, Castiel be thy name –"_

In an instant, Castiel stood on earth.

"_What_, Dean?"

Dean turned, grinned. "How's it going?"

"What do you want, Dean?"

"That's it. 'How's it a-going?'"

"…"

Under Castiel's death-glare, Dean fidgeted. "And, uh . . . bad time?"

* * *

**Fall 2/2 (Angel's Revenge)**

**04/26/11**

* * *

The farmhouse was old – very old. It was also haunted. The boys didn't usually handle hauntings anymore – they had much bigger problems – but Cas called it in personally, so they hauled ass.

Six-hundred miles in ten hours.

Squinting in the rain, Dean signaled Sam to head around back. Sam nodded and crept away.

The front door fell open easily – almost too easily. Dean moved with caution. The first room was a kitchen, nearly empty. On the ancient refrigerator was pinned a note.

_Dean and Sam,_

_There is no hunt._

_It is irritating to be summoned without cause._

_Isn't it?_

_Castiel_


	19. Sly Drabbles

**Sly (Fairytale Romance)**

**05/01/11**

**While watching the royal wedding, my Mom noted how the reporter called the dress sexy. But it wasn't; it was classy. And why must it be sexy? When did being classy, elegant and appropriate become meaningless? It was a wedding gown fit for a princess, and it looked beautiful on her.**

**Bonus Challenge: The Royal Wedding**

* * *

"But really, why must the dress be 'sexy'? She looks elegant, regal."

"Mm," Dean said, not listening.

"It's the royal wedding, not the red carpet!"

They watched silently as Kate walked down the aisle. It was Sam's idea to watch the wedding, waking Dean up at an ungodly hour to do it.

He was feigning irritation, but as the bride came up beside her prince, their love was clear. Dean smiled.

Then something moved in the background.

He shot upright, staring. "Sam!"

"I saw it!"

Werewolves. In London. …_Cool_.

Dean turned to Sam, a sly grin forming.

"So… England?"

"Yeah."

* * *

**Sly (Dean Loves Pie)**

**05/01/11**

**Because I also wanted to write a drabble about pie.**

* * *

"Dean!" Sam shouted, annoyed. Across the table, Dean was unrepentant.

"Gotta be quicker than that, Sam." He said smugly, taking a big bite of Sam's pie.

Sam took his pie back. Dean frowned.

"Focus, Dean."

"Pie first."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Pie."

"_Dean_."

Dean scowled. "You promised me pie, you know."

"You had pie. You had three slices of pie. This is my pie."

"You haven't even touched it."

"Because you keep stealing it!"

"Just trying to keep you sharp, Sam. Your reflexes are getting kinda slow."

"They are n– Dean!"

Dean grinned slyly around a mouthful of pie. "See? Slow."


End file.
